Silence
by Sage1899
Summary: Six year old Frankie witnesses her mother's murder.Problem is Frankie's the only witness, and she can't tell anyone what happened. She and her brother end up in Brooklyn, but are they safe?
1. Default Chapter

Silence

Prologue

January, 1892

Queens, New York

Six year old Francesca "Frankie" Doherty lay curled up on the sofa next to her mother's wooden rocking chair. Her mother, Maria, eight months pregnant with her fifth child, rocked slowly, cuddling three-year-old Beth and reading the girls fairytale stories from a large leather bound book. The smell of fresh baking bread mixed with light smoke from the wood burning stove and gave the warm room a comfortable, familiar aroma.

Beth yawned and sucked her plump thumb, her other arm clinging to Maria's chest, patting it every so often. She was content in her little-girl-world, and knew nothing outside of her parent's flat. Frankie drifted to sleep, she'd caught a chill the day before when Maria and the girls had gone to the market and been caught in the freezing rain, and sleep had eluded her during the night, so she was catching up. Maria smiled down at her eldest daughter, smoothed the chestnut hair from her eyes and sighed as the babe within her kicked.

"Jealous of your sisters already?" Maria laughed at the bump that rolled across her swollen belly in reply. "Come now, Frankie and Beth both love you. So do your brothers. Won't be long and you'll be able to see for yourself."

Maria continued rocking, a slow easy rhythm as she gently rubbed her belly, allowing herself to drift off and think about how things had been when she'd first married her husband John. They'd been so terribly in love then. How in the world had they gotten so far off track?

Maria was the only daughter of a large, and very wealthy, Italian family. Her father was both respected and feared by most everyone in Manhattan. He had the ear of nearly every influential person in the city. And, he hated John, not because John was poor, though that hadn't helped at all. Not because John was a police officer, a lowly beat cop with little chance of gaining a better position in the department, that fact certainly didn't earn him any points with the notorious Giuseppe Tortulo. The reason he hated John, and had forbidden the romance between the two young lovers was simple; the Tortulo's were Italian nobility, and John was Irish.

But Maria married him anyway, her youthful defiance and a stubborn streak, longer than the Queens Bridge, melded with the misleading notion that "love conquers all" so she left her family's immense Park Avenue home in the middle of the night and ran away with John Doherty.

They married and made their home in Queens. The couple was soon joined by a baby boy, Michael, then another, Riley. Things were good. They loved each other and though they didn't have much, they had each other, a decent home and never went hungry. Maria didn't mind not having the fashionable clothes she'd worn, or not dining on fine heirloom china. When Frankie was born, she was the very likeness of Maria's mother, other than her deep blue-green eyes, they were definitely a Doherty trait, and Maria began to miss her family.

Maria and John had their first real fight, while she was pregnant with Beth. He'd started drinking, a lot, and would come home late and actually struck her once when she shouted at him for spending their grocery money at a local tavern. She'd tried to find work, but work for an eight-month pregnant woman with three young children at home was basically nonexistent. So, rather than watch her children starve, she took them and went home to her father's house. John, of course, came crawling and begging her to come home. His apology was complete with tears and promises to never let it happen again. Maria's father, thinking it would keep her in his home, told her that if she went back to him he would disown her. Maria, still desperately in love with the man she'd married years before, reluctantly said goodbye to her family and left with John.

Things were perfect.

Maria had Beth, John straightened out and stopped drinking. The boys were both in school and excelling in their studies. Frankie, looked very much like her mother but was truly a daddy's girl and idolized him.

But, it didn't take long for the strains of a growing family to push John back into drinking and gambling in an effort to bring in extra money, which of course, didn't work and cost him half the rent money. Then, when Maria revealed she was again carrying his child, John snapped. He slowly became more abusive and demanding toward his young wife and even to his children. Michael took the brunt of it but Riley and Frankie got their share as well and John pulled away from Frankie, alienating the little girl who turned to her mother and brothers for comfort and protection from her former hero.

Frankie stirred and shoved her thumb into her mouth. She had stopped such childish behavior long ago, but when she wasn't feeling well or was scared, she would return to sucking her thumb. Maria reached over and pulled the blanket up over Frankie's slim shoulder and frowned when she felt the heat coming from her daughter's body.

Maria got up, with much effort as she still held Beth, and laid the tiny toddler on John's favorite chair. She'd normally be put down near Frankie, they shared a bed at night, but Maria didn't want Beth to get sick.

Maria waddled into the cramped kitchen and pumped some cool water into a large bowl to soak a few clean rags in to use to cool Frankie's fever. As she made her slow return to the livingroom, the door slammed open with great force. Beth woke violently and started to scream and sob for her momma. Frankie's eyes flew open and she sat up with a start, her tousled auburn hair hanging in her face. Maria jumped, the bowl of water slipped through her arms and crashed to the floor in a blur of shattered porcelain and splashed across the floorboards.

"You took it!" John bellowed from the doorway and slammed the door closed with even more force than he'd used to open it. His sandy-blonde hair was plastered to his head from the heavy rain falling outside.

Frankie, though weak and burning with fever, climbed down from the sofa and snatched up Beth, cuddling the little girl close to her, she watched her parents wide eyed and silent. Beth sobbed but quieted and clung to the older girl.

"What? John, why are you home so early? I thought you were working till dinner time." Maria placed one hand against the wall as she slowly made her way down to her knees to pick up the pieces of the broken bowl.

John stalked across the room, grabbed her by her hair, his right hand and fingers tangled in her thick deep auburn tresses, and yanked her to her feet. She yelped and clutched his wrist in a vain effort to steady herself and alleviate some of the sharp pain in her scalp. He pulled her against him, his front plastered to her back. He was sweaty and reeked of sour unwashed body odors.

"You took the money from my wallet!" He hissed hotly against her ear. His blue-green eyes flashed dangerously and Maria could smell stale smoke and the sharp scent of whiskey on his breath.

"You've been drinking," she accused. Her voice was low even though her own temper was on the rise because he'd woken up the girls.

John, still held tight to her hair and brought his other meaty hand up, balled into a fist and slammed it into the side of her face. Maria's head snapped to the right and connected with his collarbone.

Maria let out a dazed yelp. Her hearing was muffled by the high pitched ringing now present in her ears.

"Daddy! Stop!" Frankie cried out from her seat with Beth.

John turned his icy gaze on his oldest daughter. "Shut yer bloody mouth girl! Seen not heard, that's what you should be!" He growled at her.

Frankie, terrified, snapped her mouth shut and clung to her baby sister protectively.

"It was the food money John. I had to get groceries," she spoke even though she couldn't hear herself over the ringing in her ears and the thumping of her heart.

Frankie watched in horror as her father slammed her mother against the wall face first, punched her in the back then spun her around and slammed her against the wall again. His fist crashed into her mother's pregnant belly causing her to double over. He then righted her and slammed her hard into the wall again. Maria's head snapped back and hit the wall so hard it left a dent and she went limp. He kept slamming her into the wall, over and over her head connected with the crumbling plaster till blood splattered in small dots across the dingy white paint.

Frankie gasped and stood petrified for a long moment. It seemed like hours but was really only a few seconds. She knew her mother was in desperate trouble and needed help so she carried Beth to the door as quickly as her little legs would carry her. She managed to get the door open and was halfway into the hall when she felt her father's hard fingers grab her shoulder and yank her back. She dropped Beth and whispered to her to run next door to get help.

John pulled Frankie back into the apartment, kicked the door closed and slammed her against the wall so hard it made her teeth rattle. He was yelling and cursing at her in his slurred Irish accent, sometimes even slipping into Gaelic. She didn't understand what he was saying but knew they were bad words because her mother had yelled at Riley for using some of the same words a week before.

"Daddy, please!" Frankie sobbed as he shook her shoulders. "Momma's hurt. Please help her." Terror and nearly hysterical sobs made her choke on each word.

He flung Frankie across the room with such great force that when she hit the tea table near the sofa there was a sickening crunch that left her right arm hanging at an impossible angle and she dropped to the floor in a heap.

Maria moaned from where she lay in two growing puddles of her own blood. One from her head and the other flooding from between her thighs, a dark scarlet stain seeping through her skirts into the pale blue rug beneath her.

"John, the baby..." she gasped the plea for him to help her.

John turned to his wife, his teal eyes were empty and icy cold with rage. He said nothing but walked closer to her, stared down at her with his deadly gaze and kicked her twice in the stomach.

Frankie clutched her arm to her chest and once she'd caught her breath again, started for the door. She looked at her mother's still form as she moved along the wall. Maria's eyes were open but dull. Frankie bit her lip to keep from crying out for her and forced herself to pick up the pace.

She wasn't quick enough.

"And where the Hell d'ya think yer goin' lass? John grabbed Frankie's broken arm and yanked her to him. All color drained from her face as she bit her lip. She could taste blood, but she didn't utter a sound.

John's drunken rage continued and he back handed Frankie across the face, his wedding ring (an intricately engraved Celtic knot-work band with his family crest carved on the top) left a deep jagged cut along her right cheekbone just below her eye. She would have fallen but he had a tight grip on her injured arm. He wrapped his long calloused fingers around the girl's slender throat and lifted her. She kicked her bare feet wildly and managed to connect one foot with his groin as her good hand clawed at his fingers. He growled in pain and tightened his grip. Frankie kicked frantically but was quickly losing strength and was unable to get any air at all. Soon, her vision was blurred by grey stars and flashes of hazy light, her eyes rolled back and everything went black.

John waited till she was completely limp and was about to snap her neck to be sure she was dead when there came a loud pounding on the door. He dropped the little girl in a heap on the floor and ran for the bedroom.

* * *

:End Prologue:

A/N: I've created a ton of characters ,over the years, that reside in Brooklyn and are part of Spot's crew. They've now decided that supporting roles aren't good enough and they want their own stories. So, this is the first of those stories. I hope you like them as much as I do.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

March 1892

Frankie clung to her brother's hand as they walked in the misty late evening darkness. Riley had carried her as far as he could but it was getting late and cold and even tiny Frankie was proving heavy for the ten year old boy. But they had made it across the bridge into Brooklyn and were safe. At least he hoped they were.

He looked down to see how she was doing. She looked up with her huge teal eyes, eyes that betrayed the fear, cold, hunger and exhaustion they both felt.

"We'll find someplace to rest for the night, okay?"

Frankie nodded mutely. She'd not spoken a word since their mother had been killed. The doctors said her voice box had been crushed in the attack and she'd likely not ever speak again. Her badly broken arm was finally set and protected by a splint and large square of material that had been fashioned into a sling for her.

She'd been released from hospital a few days before and been placed in the same orphanage as Riley. Since Michael was older, he was sent to a different one on the other side of Manhattan that had room for him and required the children to work for part of their day. Beth had spent only a few days in the orphanage when she was taken in by a rich family.

Riley shoved his shaggy dark hair from his eyes and smiled down at her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "It's gonna be okay Frankie. I ain't leavin' ya, evah. I promise."

Frankie nodded again and leaned into his side for warmth as he lead her deeper into the Brooklyn night and finally into a little covered area near one of the elevated train stops. It wasn't the best but there was enough of a structure that they were shielded from the icy winds that whipped through the streets. Riley found a dry spot on the ground for them to rest and he pulled a small loaf of bread from his coat pocket and broke it in three pieces. He stuffed one back into his pocket and gave the larger of the remaining portions to his sister. She shook her head and handed it back, pointing at the smaller piece. Riley reluctantly traded with her and they nibbled their dinner in the shadowy alley.

Frankie leaned against his shoulder and was still chewing her bread when she fell asleep. Riley finished his bread and held her protectively, stroking her dark hair and whispering to her that they would be alright. Once they were safe they'd find Michael and Beth and could be a family again. Truth was, he had no idea how in the world he would manage that but he was determined for them to all be together.

Riley leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes letting his mind drift back to the events of that morning when he'd seen their father trying to convince the nun at the door to let him and take his "nephew and niece home". Riley had darted down the hall to the room where Frankie was taking a nap, she was still weak and tired easily. He woke her and they snuck out the window of the boys bunk room onto the roof of the building next to them and ran. He'd carried her most of the way to Brooklyn, but she would trudge bravely on, even though she wasn't feeling very well, when he had to let her down every so often.

He'd chosen Brooklyn because, well, it wasn't Manhattan and it wasn't Queens. Also, because he hoped he could manage to find work at the stables at the Sheepshead bay race track, surely they could use a stable boy or something. But the truth was, he didn't know where they would stay or how best to protect and take care of his young injured sister. The only thing he was sure of was that he wouldn't let their father near her again, ever.

The snapping of boots smacking the ground came closer. It was quite dark now and getting colder all the time. Riley wondered if he'd made the right decision in taking Frankie and running away like he had. Someone was running, he could tell that much, no, wait, there were two of them coming ever closer and more footsteps, louder and deeper sounds following the first two. He sat up straighter and pulled Frankie closer to him. He gave a quick prayer under his breath that they'd be safe from whoever was coming at them in the night.

The first figure darted into the alley and crouched down out of site, it was quite small. The second, taller than the first, followed but ran in front of the children, his foot caught on the edge of Riley's boot and the figure tumbled to the ground.

"OOF!" A young male voice uttered then cursed under his breath in Italian. Riley recognized it as one of the words he was never allowed to say.

The other running footsteps thundered past their hiding place before the first figure turned toward them.

"Tab? What happened? You awright?" This voice was also male but seemed younger.

"Yeah, yeah...just peachy." Sarcasm seeped from Tab's words as he sat up and brushed the dirt from his ragged coat and knee breeches. "Tripped ovah sommat and skinned me knee but don't hurt." He moved over into one of the few areas that was dimly illuminated by a streetlight and started digging small rocks from his bloody knees. His dark hair was far too long and hung in his eyes as he played in the gore.

"Eww! What're ya doin?" The smaller boy crossed to Tab's side and bent over, his hands on his knees to watch. He was a sharp contrast to the other boy's Italian features, this boy was blonde and small.

"Cleanin' it out...What's it look like Spot?"

"Like yer makin it bleed."

"Well, I ain't." Tab wiped his hands on his pants and turned a little. "What the devil did I trip on?" He lit a match to see, illuminating the pathetic forms huddled together in the darkness.

Spot moved close to the children. Now that Riley could see him better, he realized that Spot had to be younger than him, maybe even close to Frankie's age. While the one called Tab was older and closer in age to his own.

Riley clung to Frankie protectively and watched them, "we were here first." His voice was shaky from the cold and a little fear but he lifted his chin defiantly. "We don't want any trouble."

Tab snorted. "Youse planin' to stay out heah all night are ya?"

Riley bristled and Frankie woke up, eyes wide but silent. She somehow scooted even closer to her brother and clung to him tighter than before. "We're fine."

Spot started to laugh. It was more of a giggle really, one that belonged to an eight year old boy. "Dat's crazy! Who's da goil? She yer sistah or sommat?"

Riley nodded stiffly.

"She looks half froze," Tab frowned as he got to his feet. "Youse ain't got a bettah place dan dis ta sleep?" His voice had softened a bit as he looked at Frankie.

Riley sighed and shook his head, looked down at Frankie and back up to the boys. "Not any more."

Tab pulled Spot to the side and whispered to him. Spot nodded and they stepped closer again.

"I ain't gonna ask what happened. Figure we all got secrets right? And If you want us to know you'll say. But, youse two can't stay out heah all night. The kid'll freeze to death. S'posed to snow tonight. Evah thought bout bein' a Newsie?" Tab asked with a slight smile on his face.

Frankie shivered.

Riley sighed.

"You ain't scared of us are ya?" Spot knelt on one knee in front of Frankie.

She blinked at him. His eyes were lighter than hers and pure blue. She shook her head.

"Newsie? Nah, I'm gonna get a job as a stable boy at Sheepshead."

Tab shook his head. "Jobs like dat almost always go to the kids of the owners or jockeys. Plus, you ain't big enough yet."

Riley opened his mouth to tell him to mind his own business but Tab cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"I know cos I tried. I'm bigger than you are so there's no way you'll get the job. But that ain't the point."

"Good, cos we ain't gonna hurtcha. I'm Spot. What's yer name?"

Frankie just shook her head and put her hand to her throat.

"She can't talk. Her name's Frankie. I'm Riley." Riley put out his hand to Spot.

Spot spit in his palm and shook his hand. "I'm Spot. Spot Conlon."

Frankie made a face at the crude gesture between the boys and looked up at her brother.

"Look," Tab interrupted. "It's gettin' colder and later. Youse two can come with us and stay and the lodging house for the night. Then tomorrow you can either go to Sheepshead or learn to sell papes."

"It ain't the Ritz but it's warm enough. You got any money?" Spot asked.

Riley stiffened and shook his head.

"Don't worry bout it. We got enough for tonight," Spot waved a wallet in the air.

Riley wasn't sure he wanted anything to do with pick-pockets, but he was smart enough to know that Frankie, at least, needed a safe warm place to spend the night or she'd get sick again. He nodded. "Thanks. She just got out of the hospital."

Tab frowned. "We'll take good care of ya," he bent down and scooped up the little girl and held her close to his chest. He was a few inches taller than Riley and able to carry her easily. "Don't worry I ain't stealin' her. C'mon, the lodgin' house ain't that far from here."

* * *

:End Chap1: 


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter2

"Can ya write yer name kid?" A tall, well built boy with obsidian hair and eyes the color of Wedgewood, asked huskily. He was propped against the wall, his right leg bent up so the sole of one ratty leather boot was flat against the wall and he balanced on the other foot. He watched Riley and took a long drag off the half burnt cigaret he held between his thumb and pointer finger. Riley nodded as the older boy let a thin controlled stream of smoke escape his lips. "Good. Sign in there," he pointed to the ledger on the desk. "Tab says you can read too?" His dark brows lifted as he took another drag.

"Y-yes sir," Riley stammered as he wrote his name carefully.

Spot and Tab snickered.

"He ain't no sir, he's Chaos. Leadah of the Brooklyn newsies." Spot announced proudly. Deep dimples pierced his cheeks as he smiled and showed off the gaps from his two missing front teeth.

"Where ya want the kid, Chaos?" Tab asked softly. "She's damn neah froze ta death."

Chaos glared at the younger, smaller boy. "What'd I tell you bout cursin' round ladies Tabasco?"

"She ain't a lady yet," Tab rolled his dark eyes. "'Sides she's out cold."

Spot giggled and shuffled his feet.

Chaos narrowed his eyes and grunted in reply. "There's an empty bunk in the corner by Shortstop, they can share it for tonight, but she's gonna need to go to the girls bunk room tomorrow. Should be a blanket there but ya can snag the blanket from my bunk too. She needs it more than I do."

Tab nodded and hurried down the hall.

"Just follow Tab. You two are paid up for a week, courtesy of these two miscreants, give ya a chance to get the hang of things. Then it's a nickle each a night and that includes suppah. Don't look like she could eat much though. Maybe we can work somethin' out on the price if things work right."

"Thanks, Chaos." Riley looked rather pitiful but he was taking care of his sister. Very little impressed Chaos any more, but that did.

"Go on, get to bed. Mornin' comes early round heah."

Riley nodded and hurried down the hall after Tab and Frankie.

Spot started off after them and Chaos stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. The size difference was amazing. Chaos' hand was nearly the size of the scrawny newsies head.

"You come in late for curfew again Spot and you're gonna be outta here." He spoke softly but there was no doubt he was serious. "I don't wanna be a prick about it...but you've been late every night this week."

Spot sulked and fidgeted. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and he suddenly looked very much like the eight year old he was and not the hardened pick pocket he'd become.

Chaos sighed. He'd found Spot wandering the streets when he was three years old and took him in as a newsie. Chaos wasn't one to show affection really, life was too short and too hard as a Brooklyn newsie leader to care too much for anyone. But he had a soft spot for this kid and always would. He mussed Spot's hair.

"Look Aiden, you know I'm doin' what I can, but when it gets to the point that I'm catchin hell from Murphy bout you... anyone else would have been kicked out already. "

Spot kicked the scuffed toes of his boots against the warn but clean floor. "Sorry."

Chaos sighed again. "Go on...get to bed."

Spot nodded and scurried down the hall.

"Oh, Spot?"

"Yeah?" He stopped and turned back to his leader.

"Be more careful. Tab said you guys almost got caught tonight. You get tossed in the Refuge I ain't gonna be able to getcha out again."

Spot nodded again and once Chaos waved him away he hurried to the bunk room and to his bed.

* * *

Morning did come early. Riley had lain awake most of the night, the noises of thirty some odd boys sleeping in one room was something he most definitely was not used to. The new surroundings and fears that his father would come looking for them kept his mind reeling all night.

He hugged Frankie close to him. She too had slept poorly. Nightmares of what happened to her and their mother crept into her dreams. She would wake up trembling and sit up, her mouth wide open with a scream of terror on her lips, but nothing ever came out. He was relieved, sort of, that she didn't wake the others with the nightmares, but he worried that someday she'd be in trouble and out of his sight and he wouldn't be able to help because he couldn't hear her silent screams.

Riley looked down at her and for the first time realized just how young and innocent she looked with her little thumb stuck in her mouth. She was barely six but looked closer to four because she was so small and thin.

Delicate. That's what their mother had called her. She was the sort of child that should be pampered and doted on. She should have soft slippers and scads of frilly dresses with matching hair ribbons. She should have a huge bed with lots of pillows piled high and fresh linens. Yet, here they were; sharing a bunk in the Brooklyn Lodging House for Newsboys and girls, hiding from the very man that should have protected them.

Riley sighed heavily and rubbed his dark blue eyes with the heel of his hand. He'd make sure she stayed safe. He could do that much. Chaos had mentioned her going to the girl's room but she was too little and couldn't talk. There was more than enough room for both of them in the one bunk. He made up his mind to convince Chaos to let her stay with him.

He laid there drifting between memories and dreams and had finally fallen asleep when a tall boy with bright ginger hair entered the room banging a wooden spoon against the bottom of an old metal cooking pot.

"Git up ya lazy bastids!" The boy shouted and smacked the pot loudly as he walked up and down the rows of bunk-beds and hammocks that lined the far wall.

"Shaddup Gingah!" and various other mumbling filled the room as blankets were pulled over their heads and anything in reaching distance, including a tin cup, were flung in the direction of the offensive noise.

Frankie jumped half out of her skin and clung to Riley, tears sprang to her wide eyes as she looked around the unfamiliar room.

"Shh, it's okay Angel." Riley hugged her close and smoothed her hair from her face. His use of their mother's nickname for her made her smile sadly. "I know. I miss her too. But I'm right here with ya. We got each other, alright?"

Frankie nodded and rubbed the sleepy tears from her eyes.

Riley smiled, "good girl."

The boys in the bunks surrounding them started to wake. A mixture of foul language and disgusting bodily sounds filled the room and the smell of 40 plus un or semi-washed young boys would have been over powering had they not been immune to their own stench. As they crawled from their bunks they began to take notice of the little girl and new boy among them.

A smallish boy, Riley guessed him to be about his age, perhaps a little younger, dropped down from the bunk next to them in nothing but his underwear. Upon seeing Frankie (who immediately dropped her jaw and buried her face in Riley's shoulder) the boy yelped, turned twelve shades of red, and yanked the blanket off his bunk, wrapping it around himself, shrouding himself in the rough wool from nose to toes.

"Wh-who are you? And wh-what is SHE d-doing here?" The boy stammered from the folds of his cocoon. He blinked his huge grey eyes. They were the only parts of him visible peeking out from inside the blanket, and looked a little out of place as they were so big and the rest of him was so small.

Spot dropped down from a nearby bunk. "Calm down Shortstop! Dat's Riley and his sistah...didn't catch her name but heard him call her Angel a couple times." He shrugged. "Sounds like a good name for her to me. They's new." He sniffled. The boys in the Brooklyn Lodging house were always coming down with some malady or another. When his nose continued to run, he wiped it with the back of his arm. Shortstop and Riley both made faces and Spot glared. His enormous ears stood out from the sides of his head as if at attention, and he was so small in stature that the glare merely made the rest of the boys in the bunk room laugh.

"Riley? What kinda name is dat foah a newsie?" A tiny Italian looking boy sat up in the bunk below the one Shortstop had jumped down from and rubbed his head. His shock of black hair stood on end and he blinked large deep brown eyes at Riley then looked over to Tab who had already washed his face and sat on the edge of his own bunk pulling his boots on.

"It's my real name." Riley protested and narrowed his own brown eyes at the small boy. He wasn't one to pick fights but he didn't shy away from them either and though he didn't particularly wish to fight with some little kid over his name, his body tensed just in case there was trouble.

"I see," the boy nodded and retrieved the stub of a half smoked cigar from under his pillow and popped it in his mouth.

"No smoking in the LH Racetrack." Another boy, nearly the same size and build as Riley dropped down from the bunk above his own and snatched the stub from Racetrack's mouth and tucked it into Race's shirt pocket. He shoved a shock of blonde waves from his eyes, spat in his hand and held it out to Riley. "They call me da Guv'nah. Guv for short." He continued in a thick Cockney accent.

Riley spat in his own palm and shook hands with the boy.

"Don't worry bout them none, just ain't safe most the time to go by our real names. So's when the Coppahs or other such blokes ya don't wanna see comes lookin' foah ya, no one else can get in trouble foah lying when they say they dunno nobody called Tom Kellogg oah Michael Jones...cos they don't."

"Oh, right." Riley nodded. "That's a good idea. Angel's the best thing to call my sister but...I dunno bout one for me." Riley hadn't slept well and everything now was happening so fast, his mind was reeling to keep up.

"Hmm," Guv looked him up and down. "How bout Pinstripe? Maybe Pin foah short."

Riley blinked at him.

"Well...yer shirt an' yer trousers both gots pinstripes on em." Guv shrugged. "Somethin ta call ya till we find sommat bettah. An' it won't be hard for the others ta figure out who ya are."

"Pin huh?" Race and the others looked at him then nodded after a long moment.

Riley nodded and looked down at Frankie. "Mind calling me Pin now, Angel?"

Frankie shook her head wide eyed. She was scared, but they seemed nice enough. Being hurt. Running away. So many new people. And now, new names. It was all just a bit overwhelming for her.

"Pin it is then," Riley shrugged and gave an uncertain smile.

"C'mon then...Pin," Tab smiled. "If we get going early 'nuff we can get coffee and bread from the nuns before we start sellin'."

Pin nodded. "Thanks, Tab. Really, thanks for everything."

Tab shrugged his shoulders and dropped down to his haunches in front of Angel and smoothed a lock of dark auburn hair from her eyes. "You remember me, Angel?"

She nodded mutely but smiled. He'd been nice to her, she remembered that much.

"Good. How bout we let yer brothah go clean up a little and I'll take you up to the girls room and we can getcha hair brushed and maybe find ya some warmer clothes?"

She looked to Pin and when he nodded it was okay she turned back to Tab and nodded as well. He held out his arms for her and she wrapped her good arm around his neck. Tab held her close and was careful not to bump her arm.

"Second floor, to the right at the top of the stairs."

"Thanks." Pin watched as Tab maneuvered through the bunk room, talking softly to Frankie as they went, then got up and hurried to the washroom to get ready for his first day as a Brooklyn newsie.

* * *

RaeKelly, Gip, Bittah, Cyanne, Fantasy, Dewey... Thank you all for reviewing ((pokes her friends that haven't reviewed...))

I hope you guys like where it's going. Please let me know what you think.


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